


of your broken little hearts

by lumosed_quill



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, M/M, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2014-06-10
Packaged: 2018-02-04 04:19:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1765228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumosed_quill/pseuds/lumosed_quill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>…all he can remember/are eyes the colour of unshed tears.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	of your broken little hearts

shuffling feet moving dust  
from shadow into lit air;  
atoms alive, small movements  
devoid of magic.

he links their fingers,  
wraps his arm low  
on her body, slight and firm.  
she sways, swallowed up in plaid,  
hair matted, drawn back,  
and her breath near his ear  
whispers thoughts, clear as printed word,   
pensieve ink stains, her tears:

he's gone.

nick cave croons in a night  
empty of human joy;  
desolate lands roll away  
from their walking legs.  
all they can do now  
is dance:  
slowly, like they're dying.  
he holds her close and thinks of failures  
he could have prevented:

_a wand drawn on a parapet,_  
the mechanics of the sky that night,  
recorded in last breaths,  
unspoken curses,  
innocence lost under the weight  
of colliding worlds  
while he hid under the stairs – 

_he'd always been so good at hiding  
under the stairs…_

he's unsure why –  
with her in his arms,  
the lyrics wound 'round their heads  
like laurel, blessings, manna they can't eat –  
why he's thinking of him,  
of black birds and sparrows,  
scars under their clothes,  
and how easily they denied one another.

her heart beats against his chest.  
the air is warm with song  
as trees outside wave unfrenzied,  
going nowhere,  
waiting for them to walk on,  
walk away,  
aimless as fawns without mothers.

she's thinking of him,  
and all he can remember   
are eyes the colour of unshed tears

apologies never given

blood shed on stone

hands that never touch

wands always drawn

the music distills to traces of itself,  
swirling desolate, picking up light  
and moving it behind his eyes  
and he tries to forget:

watching a boy walk a hall,  
a boy like him,  
searching for something in a mirror  
that only tells lies,  
searching for himself in cupboards kept locked.

he forgets their animosity,  
their cowardice,  
and as night moves into dawn  
and the trees still  
and the silence sleeps on, frozen…  
as their broken little hearts  
beat them forward,  
limping them along unlaid paths  
anew,  
harry remembers nights not taken,  
arms that could embrace his return  
if they could lay their hatred down  
like old swords, misused,  
and finally,  
finally,  
say one another's names

and mean it.


End file.
